Ginny Weasley
by ginnypotter96
Summary: The harry potter series from Ginny's point of view begining during The Half-blood Prince . She is hopelessly in love with Harry. Will they ever end up together?
1. Chapter 1: The Hidden Corridor

The Hidden Corridor

We walked through the corridors after Quidditch practice, Dean's arm across my shoulders. I massaged my temples in hope that it would diffuse all the thoughts swarming in my head.

The first match of the season was just around the corner. It was against Slytherin and the team was far from ready. Our biggest issue: Ron, the more nervous he got, the worse he played, and the worse he played the more nervous he got. His insecurities had built up so much, that today during practice he accidentally punched Demelza in the face.

"It was an accident, I'm sorry, Demelza, really sorry!" Ron shouted to her as she flew down to the field. "I just—"

"Panicked." I finished, becoming frustrated. I flew down to Demelza. "You prat, Ron, look at the state of her!"

Then Harry landed next to me, "I can fix that," he said, "_Episkey_. And Ginny, don't call Ron a prat, you're not the captain of this team—"

I was feeling that kind of embarrassed that you get when you wish you hadn't said something, but I resolved to do what I've always done; cover it up with a joke. "Well, you seemed too busy to call him a prat and I thought someone should."

I saw a smile tug at the corner of his mouth, which he'd obviously tried to hold back. I smiled, bit my lip, and bent my head to shield my face with my hair. I'd seen him do that a lot, and even though I knew I wasn't supposed to, I found it really cute.

It had to be one of the worst practices I'd ever been to, but Harry obviously didn't want to knock down the team's confidence right before the match. "Good work, everyone, I think we'll flatten Slytherin," he said at the end of practice.

"You did great." I told Dean. He raised his eyebrows. "Good enough to deserve a kiss?" "Definitely," I said, then placed my hands on his shoulders and kissed him softly. When I pulled away his hands were still on my back, and he beamed at me with such intensity that it pulled me towards him.

I leaned in and kissed him again, but this time his kisses were harder and faster. Then when a group of fourth year Slytherins walked by and hooted, I pulled away and looked around until I saw the tapestry that hid a secret hallway. I yanked the tapestry aside, took Dean's hand and pulled him behind it.

He grinned at me and then bent his head and brought his lips to mine. Our kissing was getting more intense, and his hands were getting lower and lower on my back—"Oi!"

I jerked away and looked around to find Ron standing at the entrance to the passageway. He was looking absolutely enraged. A moment later I noticed Harry standing slightly behind Ron, with his jaw locked in an attempt to look indifferent.

This made me feel a little awkward. I felt like I'd been caught doing something I wasn't supposed to. But why? I had every right to kiss Dean. He was my boyfriend. "What?" I spat.

"I don't want to find my own sister snogging people in public!" Ron yelled back.

"This was a deserted corridor till you came butting in!" I shouted indignantly. I noticed Dean was turning slightly red and he gave Harry a tight-lipped grin, which Harry did not return.

"Er… c'mon Ginny," Dean said awkwardly, "let's go back to the common room…." "You go! I want a word with my dear brother!" I felt kind of bad for snapping at him, but at that moment, the anger overshadowed the guilt.

Dean speed-walked away as I glowered at Ron. "Right," I said, "lets get this straight once and for all. It is none of your business who I go out with or what I do with them, Ron—" "Yeah it is!" he argued, "D'you think I want people saying my sister's a—"

"A what?" I interjected as I pulled out my wand, "A _what_ exactly?"

"He doesn't mean anything, Ginny," Harry said flatly. This was the first time he'd spoken. Great, he was on Ron's side.

Or was he just… _jealous. _I pushed the thought from my mind. Of course he wasn't, I've liked him for years and he's never shown any sign of returning the feeling. No, I _used_ to like him, but these were thoughts for later.

"Oh yes he does!" I said with a fresh anger aimed at Harry. "Just because _he's _never snogged anyone in his life, just because the best kiss _he's_ ever had is from our Aunt Muriel—"

"Shut your mouth!" said Ron. Now he was the one turning red.

"No, I will not!" I yelled with even more anger at the fact that Ron was now telling me what to do. I got enough of that from Mum and Dad and everyone else.

At this point we were both yelling at the top of our lungs. "I've seen you with Phlegm, hoping she'll kiss you on the cheek every time you see her, its pathetic! If you went out and got a little snogging done your self, you wouldn't mind so much that everyone else does it!"

At these words Ron pulled out his wand too, and Harry, put himself in between us. "You don't know what you're talking about!" Ron yelled while trying to lean around Harry to find a path from his wand to me. "Just because I don't do it in public—"

I laughed tauntingly, "Been snogging Pigwidgeon have you?" I said, trying, unsuccessfully to push Harry out of the way. "Or have you got a picture of Auntie Muriel under your pillow?"

Ron shot an orange ray of light from his wand which just missed my arm. Harry got there in seconds and pinned Ron against the wall, "Don't be stupid," he growled.

"Harry's snogged Cho Chang!" I yelled. I could hear the crack in my own voice as the anger filled my eyes with tears. I refused to let them fall, I blamed Ron for them, and now I was aiming to hurt.

"And Hermione snogged Victor Krum, it's only you who acts like its something disgusting Ron, and that's only because you've got about as much experience as a twelve-year-old!"

I was done, and I didn't want to hear any more. I stomped off before Ron had the chance to say anything else.

I felt the tears coming fast, and I began to run down the corridors. It felt good. Feeling the coolness on my face after it had become so hot, feeling my hair blown out behind me. I tried to concentrate on the relaxing feeling, and just forget.

Oddly enough, I wasn't thinking about the fight with Ron, I was thinking about Harry. Why did it make him so mad to see me kissing Dean? I could understand why Ron was upset, he was my brother. But maybe that was why it upset Harry too. I had always had been like a little sister to him. That was all I would ever be to him.

Why did I care? I'd liked him for five years, but he was too busy chasing after Cho. If he had any interest in me he would've had plenty of chances to make a move. I needed to be over him, because he was never going to like me.

I thought back to the days when I liked him. I had idolized him.

He had gone through so much. He had no real family, he seen Cedric and his god-father murdered right in front of him, had the most powerful dark wizard of all time after him, and had the pressure of being "The Chosen One" and knowing that most likely, he would be facing Voldemort again, very soon.

Yet he was so amazing. He had defeated a mountain troll, killed a basilisk, won the Tri-wizard tournament, and survived four run-ins with Voldemort. On top of all that, he was a great wizard, a great guy, and as I'd realized when I stopped liking him; a _regular_ guy.

I knew that he said all the things he'd done were just luck, that it didn't feel so great it was you, and I understood what he meant, but no one can do all that, with just luck. It takes skill.

I had to remind myself again that he would never like me, and as much as I wanted to be indifferent to this truth, as much as I wanted to not care, it made my heart cringe.

I heard some people say, "Where are you going?" or, "Why are you running?" but I didn't answer.

Finally I got to the fat lady and said, "Dilligrout." As the portrait swung open, she said, "What's the matter deary?" but I marched on through without answering.

I started straight for the girls' dormitory, but Dean was waiting for me. He opened his mouth to say something, but without stopping, I quickly said, "I'm not in the mood to talk Dean, I'm going to bed," even though it was far too early for that.

He followed behind me and asked, "Are you mad at me?" I sighed, "No, Dean." With this he stopped following me, and I didn't look back.


	2. Chapter 2: The First Match

The First Game

It took me a long time to fall asleep that night. Once I did, I dreamt I kissed Harry behind the tapestry, but when I pulled away and opened my eyes, it was Dean, and then I turned my head to see Harry standing in the doorway with a cold, angry look on his face. He kept stomped away yelling something about betrayal. I chased after him, but when I stepped through the tapestry and out into the corridor, there was no sign of him.

The next week or so passed fairly uneventfully. I hardly saw Harry and wondered if he was avoiding me. Ron was acting icily towards Dean and I; which was perfectly fine with me, and practices were only getting worse.

Ron was in a foul mood, and his keeping was just as bad, only now, he insisted on yelling at the _rest_ of the team whenever _he_ messed up (which was often).

Suddenly it was the day of the match, and no one was feeling too optimistic about it, until we looked outside to see that the weather was beautiful, and a few of Slytherin's best players were too ill to play.

Things were starring to look up, but there was still the problem of Ron's keeping, which wasn't looking good when he came into the changing room with Harry, looking pale, and unconfident. Even that though, changed when he learned of our good fortune.

I still wasn't talking to him though so I spoke only to Harry, "Conditions look ideal. And guess what? That Slytherin chaser—Vaisey, he took a bludger in the head yesterday during their practice, and he's too sore to play! And even better than that—Malfoy's gone off sick too!"

"_What?"_ Harry asked incredulously, obviously surprised that Malfoy would ever pass up a chance to start problems with Gryffindor. "He's ill? What's wrong with him?"

"No idea, but its great for us! They're playing Harper instead; he's in my year and he's an idiot."

When we finished getting ready, we walked out into the stadium, where we were greeted with thundering jumbles of boos from the green and silver end of the stadium, along with cheers from the sea of red and gold at the other.

I watched Harry stride up to Madam Hooch and shake hands with the Slytherin captain, Urquhart.

Madam Hooch recited her usual, "Mount your brooms. On the whistle…three…two…one…" and we kicked off the ground and flew into the air.

It was nice to be flying again. The breeze stroking my face, flowing through my hair.

I was surprised to hear the voice of the commentator. Of course I knew it could no longer be Lee Jordan, considering he had graduated the previous year, but that didn't mean I was prepared for it.

"Well, there they go, and I think we're all surprised to see the team that Potter's put together this year. Many thought, given Ronald Weasley's patchy performance as keeper last year, that he might be off the team, but of course a close personal friendship with the captain does help…" sneered the new voice, which I now recognized as belonging to none other than Zacharias Smith.

I gritted my teeth, not sure of whether it was because of the jeer at Harry, the jeer at Ron, or simply because Smith had been the one to take Lee's place as commentator.

"Oh, here comes Slytherin's first attempt on goal, its Urqhart streaking down the pitch and…Weasley saves it, well, he's bound to get lucky sometimes I suppose."

I glanced up at Harry. He was looking at Smith with eyes that seemed they could've burned a hole right through him, until he dived down in search of the snitch.

The game was going very well, despite Smith's commentary. Gryffindor was winning, Ron was doing a surprisingly good job, and I'd scored a couple of goals myself.

Ron had just earned himself a few verses of "Weasley is our king" (from the Gryffindors, thankfully) when out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of Harper, the Slytherin filling in for Malfoy, ramming Harry, hard. Gryiffindors in the crowd booed and shouted, but Madam Hooch's back was turned.

I gritted my teeth, and was just about to go soaring after Harper to ram him as hard as I could, when the Quaffle hit me square in the chest. I juggled it in my hands for a moment, trying to keep it from falling, and when I finally had a firm grip, I turned to see that Dean had passed it to me. By the time I had gotten rid of it I looked over to see that Harper had taken off.

I was filled with a surge of irritation at Dean. Why hadn't he passed it to someone who was looking? What if I hadn't caught it?

I was grateful for the distraction later though, because it saved me from earning a penalty for Gryffindor and from having to face questions on why I rammed Harper.

I continued to play, and heard from Smith (quite unpleasantly), that Harry had followed Harper in pursuit of the snitch. It wouldn't be long now.

I continued to play until, I heard the crowd, once more, roaring with cheers and boos, and looked down, knowing what I would see.

Sure enough Harry was hovering there, his hand upraised, clutching the snitch. I smiled to myself as the rest of the team shouted victory yells and zoomed toward Harry to wrap him in giant team hug. I however had a different idea of celebration.

I leaned forward on my broom, and rocketed toward Smith. I was pretty sure I heard Harry asking where I was going, but I kept flying until I plowed into the commentator's podium.

I stood up to hear the crowd shrieking with laughter as Smith struggled to stand up and the team landed beside me, laughing and cheering.

I couldn't help but smile, until I saw Professor McGonagall glaring at me and managed to suppress it, "Forgot to brake Professor, sorry."

When I turned back to the team Harry walked up to me smiling, and hugged me. I wrapped my arms around him and closed my eyes.

I tried to take in everything, the way he smelled, the way his hands pressed on my back, the way his body felt against mine; but he pulled away quickly and wouldn't meet my eyes. I could feel my cheeks getting warm, and looked down.

I waved to the crowd awkwardly, until I heard Dean calling me and saying that there would be a party in the common room.

I jogged over to Dean and he put his arm around my shoulders and gave me a short, hard kiss. He had won his first match. He really was a sweet guy.

I wished I could share in his happiness, that I could really be there with him, but right now I was somewhere else.

We started walking toward the changing room with Dean's arm unmoved from my shoulders. He was smiling and talking animatedly about the match, but I didn't hear him. I looked over my shoulder and watched the rest of the team celebrate, but the only person I saw was Harry.


	3. Chapter 3: Revelation

Revelation

The walk from the Quidditch pitch to the common room was filled with much talking from Dean and little acknowledgement from me. "What's wrong?" Dean asked as we walked through the portrait hole.

What _was_ wrong? We won the match, all the Gryffindors were congratulating us on our win and me my "crash", and I had a boyfriend who cared about me.

But I knew exactly what was wrong, and I could not do anything but ignore it.

"Nothing, I'm just a little tired." I said, and yawned for good measure. "Well you better wake up," he said, "because we have celebrating to do."

Shortly the common room was filled with people, and soon enough I heard clapping and hooting. Harry had arrived.

I looked over to see him enveloped in a mass of adoring Gryffindors. Boys were giving high fives, girls batting their lashes, and Romilda Vane was desperately clawing her way through to the middle. I gritted my teeth.

I hovered around the edges of the party, not in the mood for celebration and slipping out of Dean's attempts to include me.

I was sipping a butterbeer and trying to look anywhere but the clotting at the front of the room, when someone collided with me from the side.

I twirled around and saw that Harry had managed to escape from the mob. "Looking for Ron?" I tried my best to fake it, hopefully managing a convincing smirk.

"He's over there, the filthy hypocrite." I said jerking my head toward the corner where Ron stood attached by the mouth to Lavender Brown.

"It looks like he's eating her face doesn't it?" I asked blandly. "But I suppose he's got to refine his technique somehow."

I was feeling self-conscious, it seemed like I was talking too much, and he hadn't said a word. "Good game, Harry." I said, wanting to end the conversation.

Without thinking I patted his arm, and feeling the warm tingling in my hand, I pulled away as quickly as possible.

I turned my head so that my hair formed a drape over my blushing cheeks and walked away, pretending that I wanted more butterbeer.

As soon as I was out of sight my smirk faded and the back of my eyes stung. I looked over my shoulder to see Harry hurrying across the room. As I watched him disappear through the portrait hole, I finally acknowledged what I'd been trying to hide from myself, and I realized how much it hurt to love someone, who would never love you back.


	4. Chapter 4: Loony Love

Loony Love

Things were going as usual, with Lavender Brown constantly glued to Ron's face and Dean seemed almost as clingy as her. He was always asking me what was wrong and pushing when I gave him no answer. He kept trying to help me with everything, wanting to do everything for me, as if I was incapable of doing taking care of myself.

I was also spending a bit more time with Luna Lovegood. I started sitting next to her in transfiguration after some boys were making fun of her.

"Luna is not loony; she is kind and if I ever hear you call her 'Loony' again I will make sure that you end up exactly like Zacharias Smith on the train home last year!" I threatened.

Pretty much everyone was aware that I used the bat boogey hex on Smith after he asked me exactly what happened in the department of mysteries.

Then the boys making fun of Luna gave me a nasty look and they hadn't said a word to her since, not that I heard anyway.

A couple days later I was walking through the corridors, on my way to transfiguration, when Peeves flew overhead yelling "Potty loves Loony! Potty loves Loony!"

I furrowed my eyebrows, but dismissed it. I knew how Peeves was.

Romilda Vane and one of her fourth year friends were walking in front of me. "What does he mean, 'Potty loves Loony?" Romilda asked accusingly.

"Harry and Luna are going out!" the fourth year whispered loudly. "What! Why would _he_ go out with _Loony_?"

I was too shocked to acknowledge Romilda's use of the unpleasant nickname.

"I don't know," the other girl said, "but he asked her to Professor Slughorn's Christmas party."

Curiosity got the best of me in transfiguration that day, "So Luna… I heard you're going to Professor Slughorn's party with Harry." I said.

"Yes, he just asked me today. Don't worry though, we're not together or anything," She said dismissively. I felt my shoulders relax for a moment, until the second part of Luna's answer sunk in.

"Why would I be worried about that Luna?" I asked. "Well, I've noticed that your face softens when you look at Harry, and that seems to be quite often, mostly when he's not looking." Luna said. The whole time she spoke she kept her eyes on her assignment.

Everyone thought Luna was, well loony, but I thought that Luna had a better grasp on the world that most other people did. She was always noticing things that most didn't, which wasn't always a good thing.

"I was actually under the impression that he was going to ask you." She said with her eyes still glued to her paper. "What would give you that idea?" I asked.

She finally turned her eyes up towards me, "He looks at you a lot too."

At this moment Professor McGonagall announced that we were dismissed. Luna promptly gathered her things and said, "See you tomorrow Ginny," as if nothing had happened. And to her I supposed nothing had.

I walked into Dinner that night starring straight forward as to not look at Harry, but just as I passed behind him I heard Ron say, "You could've taken _anyone! Anyone! _And you chose Looney Lovegood?"

I sighed and doubled back. If I was going to go around yelling at people for saying that, I certainly couldn't let my own brother get away with it.

"Don't call her that Ron," I reluctantly shifted my gaze to Harry. _He looks at you a lot too. _I shook the thought from my head and felt momentary relief at the fact that I was a good liar. "I'm really glad you're taking her, Harry, she's so excited."

I managed to tear my gaze from his brilliant green eyes and continued on to my spot at the table with my jaw locked.

I could feel those eyes still on me as I sat down next to Dean, who kissed my cheek gently. _He looks at you a lot too. _


End file.
